Malfoy's Harry
by LynstHolin
Summary: FLUFFY DRARRY Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy must share the responsibility of taking care of a litter of puppies.


The note said, 'Your great ugly brute of a dog got my precious Princess in a family way. YOU can take care of the results.' It was attached to a wooden crate with a blanket in it; the blanket wriggled, and small, high-pitched grunts could be heard. Harry lifted the blue flannel to find six squirming pups.

"Dumbledore thinks if the two of yeh work tergether ter save these poor wee abandoned babies, ye'll learn how ter get along," Hagrid said.

"But-but-but I have the Tournament!" Harry protested.

"Yeh've got plenty o' time till the next challenge, Harry."

Malfoy picked up a brindled puppy by its scruff, dangling it in the air. "Merlin. That's the ugliest creature I've seen in some time."

Hagrid clapped his hands over the puppy's ears. "Don' say such things! Ye'll give him low self-esteem! Ah, ye should name 'em."

"The ugly one shall be called Harry," Malfoy pronounced.

Harry noted one puppy stomping on the face of another; it turned and nipped at another litter-mate. He picked up the squirming mite, which had fur that managed to be short and curly at the same time. "This one will be named Draco, because he thinks he's better than the other puppies."

Malfoy smirked. "Perhaps he is."

Hagrid took a pan off his stove and poured milk from it into a couple of small bottles. "Time ter feed the babies."

Malfoy put his puppy in the crook of his elbow, took a bottle, and guided the rubber nipple into its mouth. He noticed Harry looking at him oddly. "My father breeds wolfhounds. I know how to take care of puppies."

Harry looked at little Draco. The only real experience he had ever had with puppies was at Marjorie Dursley's house. Those experiences consisted mostly of him being forbidden to be anywhere near Ripper's offspring, and watching enviously from another room as Dudley rolled around with adorable baby bulldogs. He did his best to copy what Malfoy had done, cradling the puppy and putting the bottle to its mouth.

"Tilt it up more."

Harry gave Malfoy a blank look.

"The bottle! The puppy's swallowing too much air. You'll give him a stomach ache, idiot."

Harry gave an irritated grunt, but adjusted the bottle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy put puppy-Harry on one shoulder and pat it gently on the back. The puppy let out a tiny burp. "Get me a wet cloth," he ordered Hagrid.

"Whatever yer lordship wants," the man grumbled, but he dipped a rag into warm water and handed it over.

Harry watched what happened next with wide eyes. "Do _I _have to do that, too?"

Malfoy shot him an amused look. "You could do it this way, or you could be like a mummy dog and use your tongue. Sometimes, when food goes in, well, something has to come out." Looking at the damp rag Hagrid pressed into his hand, Harry wondered if Dumbledore had realized just what taking care of foundling puppies entailed. "Get to it, Potter," Malfoy said. Well, if Malfoy wasn't too proud to... ick. Harry grimaced as he cleaned the puppy's rear end.

Puppy-Draco was taken from Harry, replaced by one that looked like a very tiny Fang. The feeding and the burping and the wiping were repeated twice by each boy; Malfoy was still much better at it, and very proud of it. He aimed a steady stream of orders and criticisms at Harry. Harry gritted his teeth and resolved to give Malfoy a good thump on the head at the first opportunity.

All the puppies were tucked back into the crate after Malfoy ascertained that it was safe: no splinters or nails, no gaps for tiny paws to get stuck in, no tears or loose threads in the blankets. "You have to place them close to the stove to keep them warm, but not too warm. Do you think you can remember to keep the stove going day and night?" Malfoy asked Hagrid, sounding doubtful.

"Yeh can stoke it yerself when yeh feed the pups."

"Yes, but at night-"

"Dumbledore says yer ter take care o' them yerselves. The two o' yeh are sleepin' here till the puppies are old enough ter not need constan' care. Yer jammies are here and, look, I made yeh bunk beds."

The boys stared in horror at the odd formation of lumber that Hagrid was pointing at. One could say it resembled a bunk bed, if one had never seen a bunk bed before but had only heard rumors of their existence. "I get the top bunk," Malfoy said. Harry watched the blond boy climb up the rickety structure. It rocked a bit and made creaking noises, but it held. Harry hoped that it wouldn't come down and crush him in his sleep.

...

It was the week that Harry and Malfoy broke Snape.

Harry had successfully met the first challenge of the Tri-Wizard Tournament the Thursday before, and that set Malfoy off on a rampage so bad, Harry wondered if the blond boy had suffered some sort of permanent damage from being bounced around as a ferret. Sunday, Malfoy set Harry's shoes on fire, then flung ink into his hair. Monday, Malfoy hit Harry with a hex that made his underpants fall down and trip him by wrapping around his ankles. Tuesday, Harry retaliated with a hex he had learned from Ginny that temporarily turned Malfoy's ears into Gruyere cheese. Wednesday, Malfoy had Crabbe and Goyle give Harry a swirly in what must have been the grottiest toilet in Hogwarts. Thursday, Harry dropped a particularly large flobberworm down the back of Malfoy's robes.

Friday, the two boys got into a fist fight in potions. They dumped a cauldron on Crabbe, turning him purple. They smashed an entire rack of alembics. They crashed up against Snape's desk, knocking everything off of it, and Harry accidentally kicked the potions master in the shin. "_I will feed you to the giant squid, Potter_!" Snape shouted. He had Harry pinned to the desk by his shoulders. Apparently maddened beyond all reason, Malfoy jumped on top of Harry and started flailing at him with his fists, unheedingly bloodying Snape's nose. When Snape's grip loosened, Harry sat up abruptly, hitting Snape's already-painful nose with the top of his head. The boys ended up rolling around on the floor together. Malfoy barreled into Snape and knocked him down; Snape's robes flew up, and the whole class erupted in laughter at the sight of the potion master's white, hairy legs and Ballycastle Bats boxer shorts.

That was how Snape had been reduced to a gibbering ball of rage, too angry to actually be able to do anything other than emit gutteral screams. Potions class was let out early and Snape was escorted to Madam Pomfrey's custody.

There had been a meeting in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had looked... disappointed. McGonagall's lips were as thin as a paper-cut, and she glared at both boys as if she thought that making them into squid chum was the best plan of action. "You two have actually driven a professor mad. That's something not even the Weasley twins have accomplished. Yet. Albus, what shall we do with them?"

Dumbledore squinted thoughtfully as he stroked his beard. "Never fear, Minerva. I will come up with something appropriate."

And, so, that night, they were sent to Hagrid's hut.

...

It was Sunday night, and Harry was nearly used to the routine of feedings every two and a half hours. "Harry's sick!" Malfoy cried, sounded panicked.

"Get yerself ter Pomfrey," Hagrid said to Harry.

"Not _that _Harry. The _cute_ Harry." Malfoy had puppy-Harry wrapped in a towel and was hugging him gently.

"I thought you named him after me because he's ugly," Harry said.

Malfoy ignored him. "His nose and eyes are running, and he can barely breathe! Send an owl to my father. He'll send a potion."

"Send the owl yourself." Harry tried to take the puppy from Malfoy, but the other boy grunted at him and turned away, holding the puppy protectively. Harry took off through the dark Hogwarts grounds to the owlery.

Only an hour later, an owl delivered a bottle to Hagrid's hut. 'Puppy Pawz Tonic,' the label said; it was a Malfoy Apothecaries exclusive. Malfoy carefully dripped a few drops into the pup's mouth. "He'll be fine now, right?" Harry asked.

Malfoy's forehead was creased. "Hard to say. They're fragile when they're this little, and even more so without a mother." He tightened the towel around the puppy, swaddling it like a baby, then nestled it against his shoulder. "Give the rest of them a couple of drops just in case it's catching."

"Yer a proper mother, yeh are," Hagrid said approvingly to Malfoy. Harry tried unsuccessfully to repress a snicker, but Malfoy didn't seem to hear.

By the time the puppies were properly dosed and fed and cleaned, it was bed-time. Harry climbed into his bunk, but Malfoy went to sleep on the floor, right next to the box of puppies.

...

The next morning, Harry watched Malfoy improvise a sling out of a blanket and rope. "You're not supposed to bring pets to class unless the professor tells you to."

"Don't care." Malfoy took off his pajama top, put on the sling, and tucked puppy-Harry into it before he finished getting dressed. The Puppy Pawz tonic went into one of his pockets. "He needs constant care."

They headed off toward breakfast together. "What do you suppose Crabbe and Goyle did without you all weekend?" Harry asked.

"What do you suppose Granger and Weasley did without _you_?"

"Do you think Snape is sane again?"

"Was he ever?" Malfoy muttered.

Harry looked at the other boy in surprise. "You're his favorite, and you say that?"

They were in the Entrance Hall when they heard Ron's roar of rage. "_It's your fault Harry's getting punished, you git_!" He was a ginger blur as he charged.

"Ron, no!" Harry threw himself between Malfoy and his friend. His hand connected with Ron's jaw.

"Bloody hell, Harry, what do you think you're-" Ron shoved Harry out of the way and went after Malfoy, who was trying to run without jarring the puppy too much. Harry jumped on Ron's back, and the two boys fell over backwards. Ron rolled over in a red-faced fury. "Why are you defending _him_?" He got up again and started after Malfoy again; Harry grabbed him by his robes and pulled him back down on the ground. Ron cursed and aimed a punch at Harry's chest, knocking the air right out of his lungs. As he gasped for breath, Ron glared down at him. "You're an arse!" He stalked off before Harry could speak again.

Wonderful. He and Ron had only just made up, and now _this_. If only the ginger boy wasn't so bloody hot-headed. It wasn't as if Harry could have allowed him to crush puppy-Harry. As Harry headed to the Great Hall, he passed a thrashing Ron being mummy-wrapped in his own robes by Crabbe and Goyle; he just kept on walking. In the state Ron was in, it wasn't a good idea for him to be running loose.

...

Classes went slow, with Ron silent and glowering and Hermione miffed at the both of them for fighting. And Harry kept finding his mind going back to puppy-Harry, wondering if the poor little mite was feeling better. The whole litter was just so small and helpless and needy-after spending a whole weekend with them, Harry didn't like the idea of any harm coming to any of them.

Harry caught up to Malfoy just outside of potions. Ignoring Crabbe (who was still purple) and Goyle, he asked, "How's the puppy."

Goyle got a sulky look on his face. "You're not gonna let Pottie hold it when you won't let me hold it?"

"I saw what you did to that first year's toad," Malfoy said to his over-sized sidekick.

"I din't mean to do it!"

Malfoy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Harry isn't any better. That's not good with a puppy this small."

"Did you give him more tonic?" Harry asked.

"Of course I did! I'm not stupid!" Malfoy snapped.

"He's awfully touchy today," Crabbe said to Goyle as they followed Malfoy into the classroom. Harry sat down in his usual place, trying to ignore the looks he got from Ron and Hermione.

Snape was back. He fixed both Harry and Malfoy with baleful glares, his eyes like black pits above his swollen nose. "I trust this class will be less... eventful than Friday's. I am still in pain, and when I am in pain, I can get quite nasty." His eyes bored into Harry as if daring him to say something. Harry just swallowed hard and stayed silent. He wasn't frightened by many things, but post-breakdown Snape was a bit terrifying.

"Today, we will be working on a potion that will restore people who have accidentally been turned purple to their natural state. Turn to page two-hundred and seventy-four..."

The classroom grew silent as everyone concentrated on some tricky ingredients; for the potion they were making, one had to extract juice from lingonberries without actually crushing them. Harry was cursing a ruined batch when he heard a little high-pitched squeak coming from Malfoy's direction. Snape, who had been writing something on a scroll, looked up and frowned. The squeaking repeated, and was followed by a series of grunts.

Snape rose from his desk and stormed toward Malfoy. "What did you bring into my classroom?"

The entire class stared, shocked that the potions master spoke so sharply to the student that had always been his favorite. "I don't know what you're talking about," Malfoy said as innocently as he could. It didn't really work. He didn't have the right sort of face. Snape's eyes locked on the a tiny movement in Malfoy's robes, and he poked at it with his wand, making it yip. "You hurt him!" Malfoy shouted as he wrapped his arms around his torso protectively.

"We do not bring pets to potions, Malfoy. They are a hazard in this class. Get rid of it."

"It's sick. It needs constant care," Harry blurted out.

Snape raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised that Harry had stood up for Malfoy. "I would like the both of you to remove yourselves from my classroom and think about what a setback to your education it would be if you were expelled from potions for the rest of the school year."

Harry and Malfoy looked at each other. Harry shrugged. Out in the hall, Harry said, "It looks like Snape hates you, too, now."

"He hurt Harry." Malfoy worked the sling up so that the pup's face was sticking up through his collar and got the flask of Puppy Pawz out, using a finger to carefully put some of the potion in puppy-Harry's mouth.

"You really love dogs, don't you?"

"Of course. Doesn't everybody?" Malfoy astonished Harry by lowering his head to nuzzle the pup.

"You're nicer to that puppy than you are to most people."

"Dogs are better than people." Malfoy lowered the pup back into the depths of his robes.

"You're nicer when your around the puppies, I have to admit."

"Don't read too much into it, Potter. I just don't want to frighten them. Once we're done, I will be happy to have Crabbe and Goyle stick your head in a toilet again. Or maybe I'll think up something new for them to do to you. Something painful but not permanently disfiguring." It was amazing how the boy was able to say unpleasant things in such a sweet voice. The tone was for the benefit of the puppy, no doubt.

"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'll see you at feeding time."

...

"You've got to find someone for the Yule Ball," Hermione said. She had grabbed Harry by the arm while he was on his way to the Entrance Hall, wanting to get back to the pups as soon as possible.

"Why?" Harry tried to take his arm back, but Hermione was gripping hard.

"Because you're a Tournament champion, that's why! You'll be dancing the first dance. It's not optional."

Harry couldn't spare the time or energy for such a frivolous thing. The entire litter of puppies was sick now. Puppy-Harry was in a bad way. Malfoy's father sent more bottles-Wagsley's Picker-Upper, Barksdale and Yapp's Canine Cure-All, Perky Pet Potion... Nothing seemed to working. Harry and Malfoy were both exhausted.

"Didn't you sort of like Cho Chang? You could ask her," Hermione persisted.

Harry grunted. "I'll think about it." Gratified by his answer, Hermione finally let him go.

But Harry didn't think about it at all. As soon as he could, he escaped to Hagrid's Hut, where he dosed the puppies and fed the ones that were able to eat. The school day was over, and he and Malfoy settled into a couple of rocking chairs that Hagrid had found for them and held the ailing puppies. Malfoy insisted that the body contact was beneficial for the little ones, and Harry did notice that they seemed calmer when they were held. It was relaxing, too, with three tiny bodies as warm as hot water bottles on him, and the heat from the stove, and was Malfoy actually humming a song? Harry's eyelids got heavy and he fell into a dream where Hermione yelled at him for missing the Yule Ball.

Soft whispering woke him gradually. "Please don't die, Harry." Harry was confused for a moment, because he was pretty sure he was nowhere near death's door. Then he realized that Malfoy was talking to the puppy. "I'll be ever so sad if you do." Cracking his eyes open just a sliver, Harry could see Malfoy sitting across from him. The boy's face was drawn; lack of sleep shadowed his eyes. He held puppy-Harry to his cheek.

Harry closed his eyes again and pretended that he was still asleep until Hagrid's hour-glass crowed like a rooster, indicating that it was feeding time. Malfoy now held Harry-puppy on his lap with the other two.

As they tried to get the pups to eat, Harry asked, "Have people been bothering you about the Yule Ball?"

"Mm. My mother ordered dress robes. I really cannot bring myself to care right now."

"Me, neither."

...

The next morning, Harry was woken by the sound of laughter. He didn't recognize who it was, at first. He had heard Malfoy snicker maliciously and guffaw nastily, but he had never before heard the boy laugh with delight. "Harry is well!"

The puppy was drinking from a bottle with gusto. Malfoy shocked Harry by giving him a genuine smile. It was a very nice smile. It caused Harry such a shift in perspective, he felt almost a little dizzy looking at it. "That's great!" Harry found himself smiling back.

"I'll just take Harry to the Yule Ball."

"He has to wear dress robes, you know."

"Very tiny ones." Malfoy dropped a kiss on the top of the pup's head.

That was when Harry realized that he no longer hated Malfoy.

...

"Do you think they're the right sort?" Malfoy asked Harry. He was frowning while watching a middle-aged couple coo over puppy-Harry.

"You only want your puppy to go to a Pure-Blood family? That figures," Harry snarked.

"No, not that! Do you think they'll be good enough to Harry? Will they let him sleep with them? Will they play with him? What if they hit him? What if they lock him in a closet when they're not at home?" Malfoy was getting a bit worked up, his fists clenching. Harry hid an amused smile behind his hand.

All the pups had made it through the sickness, and they were in the process of going from milk to solid food. They would be ready for their new homes right before Christmas. Puppy-Harry was rambunctious and full of personality. His energetic nature had caused him to be passed over by other prospective owners, and he was the only one still unclaimed. Malfoy was indignant about his favorite being rejected, but, now that there were people that wanted puppy-Harry, he was getting a bit red in the face.

The woman picked up the pup, cooing. Puppy-Harry wiggled wildly, his oddly stubby tail thrashing with happiness. The woman laughed as he licked at her face, not caring that little scrabbling paws were muddying up her robes. Malfoy's hands relaxed. "Oh, you'll get along just splendidly with my grandchildren!" The woman grinned at Hagrid. "He's just what we need. All that wonderful energy." She kissed the pup on his muzzle with a loud MUAH.

"There, you see? They're perfect for Harry," Harry said to Malfoy. Merlin, that puppy's name was... confusing.

Malfoy nodded, smiling a little. But Harry noticed that it was a sad smile.

...

"Mr. Harry Potter, if you are unable to pick a young lady to escort to the Yule Ball, you will have one that was not asked by anyone assigned to you," McGonagall said tartly, leaning over Harry's shoulder. Seamus and Dean snickered.

Harry shrugged. The puppies no longer needed night feedings, and he was back to sleeping in the Gryffindor dorm. He would rather have been back in Hagrid's Hut; no one nagged him about the blasted Yule Ball there.

Right now, he was in the Great Hall for dinner. He could see a flock of girls around Malfoy, obviously chiding him about something. The Ball, no doubt. It was the only thing the girls of Hogwarts thought about at the moment. Malfoy saw Harry watching him and gave a sardonic smile, shaking his head slightly. Harry laughed.

Harry was getting an odd look from Ron. "What, you fed some puppies together and now you're friends?"

Ron had started speaking to Harry again once Hermione had explained the situation to him, but Harry felt like any little thing could re-open the rift between them. "Of course not! That could never happen. Why would I be friends with _him_? I mean, he's so... Malfoy. _Please_. Not in a million years. Never." Even though the way the blond boy so tenderly cared for the pups was... endearing. And how he had fretted over sick puppy-Harry had shown a completely different side of Malfoy. A side that was, well, likeable. But friends? That just would never happen, even though Harry kind of missed spending so much time with Malfoy. Only a little bit, though. Really, not that much. At all. Maybe.

Re-emerging from his thoughts, Harry realized that now Hermione was looking at him funny. Her eyes flicked toward Malfoy, then back to Harry. _What's her problem_? Harry wondered. It was likely she was going barmy due to the upcoming Ball, like every other girl, he decided as he piled more mashed potatoes on his plate. He looked Malfoy's way again, and was rewarded with a grin. He did his best to ignore the expression on Hermione's face.

...

"Ye'll have ter say goodbye ter the babies. Their new families are coming round about half past six ter take them home," Hagrid said when the two boys came into the hut.

Harry and Malfoy exchanged looks. Harry knew this day was coming, of course, but somehow he had not quite _believed_ it. The boys got down on the floor and let the puppies swarm them. Malfoy actually laid on his back, laughing as little wriggling bodies climbed all over him; puppy-Harry was licking his face. It looked like fun, so Harry did the same thing. Soon, he had puppy-tongue in his ears, his eyes, his nostrils, and-when he started laughing-in his mouth. He sputtered, trying to keep his mouth closed, but it was impossible to laugh with his mouth shut, and impossible not to laugh with a tiny mutt tongue-assaulting him.

There was a knock at the door. When Hagrid opened the door, the couple that had laid claim to puppy-Harry was there. "We're a little early," the woman said cheerfully. "We just couldn't wait a minute longer for our Charlemagne to join us."

Malfoy sat up, his posture stiff. "Charlemagne?" he whispered scornfully.

The man set a small portable kennel on the floor and opened its metal gate. "Come on, Charlemagne! Come on, boy!" Harry watched Malfoy's eyes follow the puppy as it ran to the man, tail wagging so hard its whole back end wiggled. The man scooped it up and put it in the kennel, snapping the gate shut. The man reached a hand out to Hagrid and they shook. "Thank you very much, Mr. Hagrid. You don't know what this means to us."

And then they were gone.

Malfoy sat unmoving for a long moment, ignoring the puppies that scrabbled at his robes. "There, there." Hagrid patted him on the head as gently as he could with his gigantic hand. The gesture set the boy in motion; he jumped to his feet and ran out of the hut. "Yeh'd best go after him, Harry, you bein' friends and all."

"But we're not-" Harry put a hand to his mouth. They weren't, were they?

"Get." Hagrid gave him a light shove on the back. Well, it was intended to be a light shove. It propelled Harry right out the door.

Malfoy wasn't hard to find. He had just gone behind the hut. He sat on the ground with his knees drawn up to his chin. When he saw Harry, he angrily swiped at his face. "Come to gloat? Are you going to tell all your friends that you caught me crying?"

"I-no! Not at all!" Harry sat down next to Malfoy, then wondered what to do next. If the blond was a girl, hugging would be the answer. But boys didn't hug other boys when they were crying; boys made fun of other boys for crying. _Who made up the rules, anyway_? Harry wondered. _The rules are stupid_. Harry slowly, cautiously moved his left hand toward Malfoy, placing it on the other boy's right hand, and hunched down a bit just in case a punch was coming. Malfoy's fingers entwined with Harry's.

_I'm holding hands with Malfoy_. Harry felt his heart speed up. Malfoy's hand was cool, but Harry's felt hot where he touched it. _My palm is all sweaty; he's going to be disgusted by it any second now and pull away_. But that second did not come. Malfoy squeezed Harry's hand, and Harry squeezed back.

"What if your friends see you like this?" Malfoy asked.

"What if _your _friends see?"

"Don't care."

"Are _we _friends now?"

Malfoy tipped his head up to look at the sky, a small smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps."

...

Harry stared at Millicent Bulstrode, who was encased in chartreuse satin; Millicent glowered back. "I didn't want a stupid date for the stupid Ball," she growled. "Don't even _think _of trying anything funny."

"I wouldn't dream of it." This was surely some sort of punishment cooked up by McGonagall and the still-vengeful Snape, being forced to take Bulstrode to the Yule Ball. Though, come to think of it, there really wasn't _any _girl he especially wanted to attend with. The opening notes of the first dance played. Harry swallowed hard, aware of how conspicuous he was there in the middle of the dance floor, and of how many eyes were on him.

"Get moving!" Bulstrode barked.

Harry would forever block that dance from his memory. There were photos taken, but Harry refused to look at any of them. All he would recall later were the bruises Bulstrode left on his shoulders, and fleeing from the dance floor when it finally ended.

Harry headed for the punch, wishing, for the first time in his life, that he could find something stronger to drink. "That was one of the most wretched performances I have ever seen," said Malfoy. He handed Harry a cup of punch. "Do you want to get out of here for a while?"

Harry downed the punch in one gulp. "_Yes_. More than you know. Wait, what about your date?"

Malfoy grinned. "Don't have one. All the Slytherin girls are angry with me now." He grabbed a fold of Harry's robes and pulled him outside. Harry saw that they weren't the only couple to have escaped. _Wait... couple_?

"Draaaaaaco! I know you're out here!" called a voice; it sounded like Parkinson.

Malfoy cursed. "Let's hide." He dragged Harry behind a bush. "She's just going to shout at me again. Her date is Goyle. She isn't happy about it." A little bit of moonlight filtered through the bush, just enough to light up Malfoy's eyes and glint off the teeth that his grin exposed. "So, you got to dance with Millie. How was that?"

"I may be permanently scarred from it."

"Physically or mentally?"

"Both."

Malfoy tipped his head back and laughed. "_I hear you, Draco_," said Parkinson. Malfoy slapped his hands over his mouth. A shadow moved close to them that looked like a pile of seaweed; it was from Parkinson in her too-frilly dress robes. The boys held their breath until she passed.

"Thank Merlin," Malfoy sighed when she moved on.

"Why didn't you ask anyone to the Ball?" Harry asked.

"There aren't any girls I'm interested in. What about you? I know you didn't choose Millie yourself."

"The same."

"No girls at all?"

"No. Not really." Harry felt Malfoy's hand touch his, and he responded by lacing their fingers together.

"Harry," Malfoy said, testing out how the word felt in his mouth. He laid his head on Harry's shoulder; he had to scrunch down a little to do it, as he was nearly a head taller. Harry tipped his own head so it rested against Malfoy's. It felt lovely.

_Ron won't talk to me for a week when he finds out, _Harry thought. _But he'll get over it. I think Hermione already knows_. The sound of the Weird Sister's latest hit filtered out of the castle, a power ballad about love being stronger than a curse. When the guitar solo started, Harry asked, "What do you suppose would happen if two boys danced together at the Ball?"

Malfoy laughed softly. "You don't really want to, do you?"

"No. I would be happy to never dance again. I was just wondering, is all."

"I've had an owl from the family that took Harry the pup. I can visit, if I like. Will you come with?"

"Yes," Harry said.

After that they sat quietly listening to the music, just holding hands, Malfoy's hair tickling Harry's cheek. Harry smiled as he thought about how Malfoy would now be cheering him on at the next Tournament challenge. He continued smiling even when Snape found them and shouted at them and shooed them out from behind the bush. "Thank you," he said to the potions master, though, really, it was Dumbledore who really deserved the credit.

"What are you on about?" Snape asked suspiciously, narrowing his beady eyes. Harry didn't reply. He just sauntered away hand in hand with Malfoy. Snape studied them like they were a puzzle to be solved as they passed him.

They stood before the door leading back inside. "What do we do now?" Malfoy asked.

Ron would likely not speak to Harry twice as long if Harry and Malfoy just strolled into the Ball holding hands. It really wasn't the right way to go about it. Reluctantly, he let go of Malfoy's hand. "We'll tell our closest friends soon. Not tonight."

Malfoy looked at Harry side-long and grinned. "Let's go in, then. I'll dance with Millie so you don't have to. You see how much I care abut you, making such a noble sacrifice."

"You're my hero."

"And don't you dare forget it." As he walked ahead of Harry, Malfoy turned his head and winked. Of course, Harry would not dare forget. He never, ever forgot a single moment they had shared that night. Not even one second of it.


End file.
